


Things in the Rear-view Mirror May not be as They Appear.

by elveriamoir



Category: The Hobbit
Genre: Goth - Freeform, metal, rock - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-26
Updated: 2014-08-26
Packaged: 2018-02-14 22:06:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2204772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elveriamoir/pseuds/elveriamoir
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I blame the alcohol for this.</p>
<p>Just because Bifur does not get any where near enough lovin. </p>
<p>Who's Ready to Rock?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things in the Rear-view Mirror May not be as They Appear.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FanFiction Queen](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=FanFiction+Queen), [Musume_no_Suoh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Musume_no_Suoh/gifts).



*Things in the Rear-view Mirror may not be as They Appear.*

 

Bifur ran a knarled hand through his greying locks as he sat in front of the large steel mirror. A plain, ageing male peered back at him, it’s only unique feature being the axe embedded in his forehead. He snorted softly and a smirk found its way onto his lips. Oh they would never know what had hit them. 

Straightening from the half slouch he had adopted, Bifur dragged the leather band out of his hair, allowing the braid to fall apart. Pushing to his feet he stripped with practised ease, dumping his grey-brown, tattered gear on the floor, alongside his holey boots. Practised fingers scooped a special type of liquid soap from a pot and he made short work of the skin-coloured paint hiding his tattoos. 

Skin clear of gunk he threw his head back allowing his white-striped, black dreadlocks to fall down his back. He freed his beard from the band holding it and shook the dust that dulled it down out. The beard (while not dreadlocked) matched his hair and he shot his reflection a cocky grin. 

He stepped up to a large black chest and opened the lid to rake through its internals. He nodded and pulled several items of clothing free. Wasting little time he stepped into a pair of heavily buckled black leather trousers. Stuffing his feet into loosely laced black leather boots, he tugged a skin-tight, black, mesh vest over his head and tucked it into the trousers. Fastening the buckles on his boots took a little longer as they were stiff, but he managed and slipped a silver studded black leather belt through the loops on his trousers. His vest was ripped at the neck and he tied a leather thong around his neck, allowing the spiky silver pendent to lie at the hollow of his throat. He wrapped thick black leather bands around his left wrist and fastened a heavy metal and spiked jet bracelet around the other. 

He sat in front of the mirror again and pulled the pots laid on the table by it towards him. His skin was pale and his tattoos stood out a stark black on his arms. With a steady hand he carefully outlined his lips with a black kohl. Carefully he began shading them in, working from the darkest of blacks at the edges of his lips he faded the colour out to a pale grey where they met. His eyes were next and he started by ringing them with kohl pencil, working to make the black line as close as he could get it to his lash line. Giving himself that base he set about finishing his look. He took the palest grey powder up to his brows and followed the line around to fill in the circles under his eyes. He put the brushes down and flexed his fingers before starting on the next shade. This darker grey he took up to the bone of his eye socket above his eye and swept it down to the same place under it. Using his pinkie finger he blended the two colours together, before picking up the final tub of powder. The powder in this was inky black and he hummed as he coated his eyelid with it. A careful examination told him his eyes were even and he tilted his head back to slip in the white contacts, having to blink several times to get them to sit properly. They reduced his vision to shades of grey but he could managed well enough. The final touch to his make up was to use the largest brush on the table to brush some of the palest grey powder into the hollows of his cheeks, just under the bones. 

He shook his hair back from his face and stood, slipping several silver skull and dragon rings onto his hands as he did. A silver topped ebony cane completed his ensemble and he left the room without a backward glance. Striding through the dingy corridors he could hear a rumbling getting louder as he approached. He pushed through the heavy doors and strode out onto the stage. Howls and cheers filled his ears and he grinned viciously. “Who’s ready to rock?”


End file.
